I visited the Kickstarter site today for the first time.  https://www.kickstarter.com/learn?ref=hero___

I've seen demos on YouTube of some of their projects but I really hadn't grasped the scope of their operation.  It reminds me of the Nat'l Endowment for the Arts, which is a government funded program.  The difference, I think, is the Kickstarter program goes along with merit and public perception w/o being overly influenced by private lobbyist interference.  I may be wrong but I hope not.

Many fine creative expressionists were cut from the NEA programs because of undue influence from private groups with their own agendas __ censorship is an ugly country.  Granted no one wants to be responsible for public funding and displays of violent or pornographic material but on some level even these expressions can be considered art. And let's face it, much of what was once considered to be too violent or suggestive is now mainstream, accessible in our own homes on our personal viewing devices.

What to do?

Some say simply don't fund art at all.  Some, don't fund the objectionable [very open to interpretation]. Others want to fund it all.  Programs like Kickstarter are an interesting approach.  I'm sure they have their own judging criteria but hopefully it's not political, religious or materially based.  There are many in the art world who spend their entire lives subsisting rather than flourishing because the ability [or simply the desire] to remain quietly anonymous is not an option open to them.  In order to progress in this culture one must perform for the public. And even then, if one is willing to jump through those hoops, the time and energy required is consuming, drawing away from the ability to create and provide even the most basic of daily necessities.  I think many would be surprised at how many truly gifted people are working basic service jobs simply to pay their bills.  I think they would also be surprised at how difficult it can be to allow the creative process to flow and present when exhausted from the work schedule.

Once again, what to do?

Possibly one answer would be to provide funding with some caveats __ say setting aside blocks of time when the subsidized could exchange  time in public service to the community.  Or having the artist donate a portion of his/her work back to the funding program.

These are just some ruminations of an early morning but I do know one thing... a culture is defined by it's creativity.  Yes, it's nice to think we're defined by our actions to each other as a baseline of future perceptions of who we are/were but in the end it's what we create and leave behind that exemplifies how we are seen to have walked the earth.

http://arts.gov/news/2014/national-endowment-arts-award-more-74-million-us-nonprofits

The wind is howling. So are the coyotes.  And the neighborhood dogs.  I have a flashback to many years ago when we first moved to this mountain. There were few people then, fewer dogs.  The wind still howled but the one canine who sang along was a wolf named Cheyenne.

It's nostalgic except for the slight worry about the coyotes.  There are many more people up here now.  Prey.  When I grew up out west the coyotes rarely moved in close to human habitat.  Now they nestle among us, hunt in our yards, move about in the sunlight.  I look for them as I look for the bears when I go out these days.  Things change.

But the wild still exists, just closer.  The sounds made by the untamed harder to hear over the sounds of civilization.  The music made by nature hasn't been muted but seems to be merging with the raucous grinding played by man.   It's a strange symphony.

This week's venture into the 'what if's':

What if the countries dealing with species invasions tried using the invaders rather than being used by them?  No I'm not speaking of ISIS or Al Qaeda or any humans, really. What I'm talking about are things like kudzu and zebra and quagga mussels, stinkbugs and giant hornets, wild pigs in Hawaii__you know, things that don't belong but are here anyway. Oh, yes. The snakehead fish can go on the list.  All of these are here and have no natural controls because they aren't native here.  What to do?

As far as kudzu goes, I think the Japanese have that covered.  They eat it.  The flowers smell good, too.
http://www.livestrong.com/article/474310-how-to-cook-eat-kudzu/

Then there are those pesky jumping [and walking] fish that are making a nuisance of our waterways.  Fish makes great fertilizer.  And pet food.  Grind 'em up. They're a part of the diet in some countries which is how, it is hypothesized, they ended up here in the first place.

Then there are the invasive mussels.  I'm not sure about these.  I like mussels. They are some of my favorite shellfish.  But as I understand it, these invasive varieties from Eastern Europe aren't great for culinary purposes.  They are supposed to filter a prodigious amount of water. This is one of the problems, apparently.  Because while they filter, they feed and deplete all the nutrients and microcosms that feed the rest of the aquatic community.  They also build up prolific amounts of toxins.  It would be interesting if we could figure out a way to use them to clean the waterways w/o having them take over. How? I haven't a clue.  But it's interesting to contemplate.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quagga_mussel

I'm not certain what stinkbugs might be good for although there is a faction that purports to eat them  Yuk.

And giant hornets?  There again, not sure but hopefully they can learn to pollinate because they're eating what are left of our European honey bees.

As far as the wild pigs go, I have a one word solution.  Spam.

Today was a 'You Go Girl' kind of day.

This morning, as I drove through town I saw many women walking.  They were doing it for exercise, dressed in their comfortable clothes all with determined looks on their faces.  Many were closing in on my age bracket [up there].  Only one was talking on her phone.  And then there was the woman who walked with even more determination.  Head slanted to the right, favoring one leg, hands curled under she moved with surprising speed. It was arthritis, not hard to spot if you know what you're looking at, and not hard to imagine the pain she was feeling.  But it did not slow her down.

Then there was my doctor. I complimented her on her jacket, a woman's suit coat, black with a rose pattern in beautiful colors.  She smiled. 'It must be 30 years old', she said. 'They just don't make things like they used to.'  I smiled back, liking the fact that she was ok with wearing it with such pleasure instead of wearing something designed to impress.

And tonight I watched the season premiere of The Good Wife.  A lead character in the series decides to leave her job, her security and set out on a new course. The last scene finds her stepping into the elevator, turning to face the reception area of the business she had started from bootstrap some years before and whispers 'Goodbye'.

You go girl.

I've been watching Foyle's War. An ITV production out of Britain, it is the story of a police inspector and his staff working out of Hastings during WWII.

The settings are period, the costumes authentic and the stories beautifully written.  But the acting stands in a category of it's own. It is superb.

The reason [well, one of the reasons] I'm writing about it is because of it's authenticity. It takes you there. It places the observer in the middle of the story.  I find myself asking, often, what would I do in that situation?  At first I take the high road and say to myself I would, of course, always do the honorable thing.  But then I decide to get real and consider, as well as I am able, to feel things as though I am there.  What would I do?  Can I even answer that w/o actually experiencing each situation?  I don't know.

What I do know is that I am asking myself these questions in the first place.  Oh, it's not the first time I've asked myself that while reading or watching a story or newscast.  But it is the first time I find myself asking it as often.

The second reason I'm writing about it is to let you know about the series [if you aren't familiar w/it already].  I'm getting it through Amazon but I believe it's available elsewhere, too.  If you're at all interested in mysteries, period pieces or just wonderfully told stories, I highly recommend it.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0310455/

“Secrets have power,” Widget begins. “And that power diminishes when they are shared, so they are best kept and kept well. Sharing secrets, important ones, with even one other person, will change them.  Writing them down is worse, because who can tell how many eyes might see them inscribed on paper, no matter how careful you might be.  So it’s really best to keep your secrets when you have them, for their own good, as well as yours.

“This is, in part, why there is less magic in the world today. Magic is secrets and secrets are magic, after all, and years upon teaching and sharing magic and worse.  Writing it down in fancy books that get all dusty with age has lessened it, removed its power bit by bit.  It was inevitable, perhaps, but not unavoidable.  Everyone makes mistakes.”

                                                                          Excerpt from:The Night Circus__by Erin Morgenstern

I had the naked dream. You know, the one where you're in the all-together and everyone else is fully dressed and happy to be that way. But this time there was a twist. I was expecting company. Two friends who were going to come into the restaurant just as starkers as I was. It was all planned out.

I was already seated and [for some reason there was a gentleman at the table for four] while he smiled and carried on small talk I waited for my friends. They showed up and guess what, they were dressed. Completely dressed. Not even plunging necklines. One smiled at me in the 'gotcha' kind of way. The other couldn't look at me and kept glancing around nervously. The man at the table kept smiling although the smile seemed to get larger.

Well, wasn't I surprised!

I thought for a minute then got up and sauntered off to the ladies room. An attendant was there and after paying her to get me a tablecloth I wandered outside to flag a cab. I could hear sirens in the distance.

What to do__what to do?  I couldn't go home. The 'friends' would no doubt tell the police where I lived. I told the cabbie to take me to the airport. And so there I was, clad in linen trying to decide on a destination, credit card be damned. I chose Lyon, France. Never been there and always wanted to go.  And maybe, it being France, they wouldn't look too askance at the toga. Fashion freakery and all that.

What I found interesting [I mean besides the underlying implications] was that although the other diners at the restaurant had been a bit taken aback by my lack of attire the people at the airport didn't even blink. Barefoot woman in a toga? No problemo.

Oh. Does anyone know if they have extradition from France to the U.S. ?